Temper tantrum hell

It is 3:00pm...

Miles USUSALLY sleeps until 3:30pm
TODAY he decided to wake up at 2:00.
2:10 he started crying.
He has not stopped.

He has been screaming and crying and kicking and slobbering for the last 50 minutes.

He's back in bed doing the screaming now because I couldn't listen to it anymore. (Like my house is so big that I can't hear it down my half flight of stairs)

He was made because of the following:

1. He wanted me to stand up and pick him up. I offered my lap because I was sitting. That started the whole she-bang.

2. He wanted me to dry his tears. I did. Then he changed his mind.

3. I asked if I should wipe his slobbering nose. He said no. I did anyway. He got mad.

4. He told me he wanted to go back to bed. I put him there, kissed his cheek and handed him his bear. He threw the bear back at me as more screaming erupted.

5. He said he was better, I brought him a juice box and he went to take a drink and some juice squeezed on his shirt. Meltdown continues.

6. Another begging for me to STAND and hold him didn't work...insert more screaming.

So now, he's in bed...screaming...and if it were ME, I'd cozy up in that pillow and close my eyes again.
...
...
...
3:05-no screaming.

Deep breath. Let the afternoon begin.
3:05 (and 53 seconds...screaming)

I don't USE makeup

Since I've started doing home shows for this company I've noticed two types of women.
Those who are open to trying most anything and wear makeup on a regular basis and those who almost wear a badge saying, "I don't wear makeup!"
Which is fine with me, really!
I really don't care if sally chooses not to wear makeup, even if I think she should probably put a little concealer on.
The thing that cracks me up is that people say it almost like they are ready for me to debate with them WHY I think she should wear makeup.
Which is another thing that is funny because I've never done a 'Make it up' show. In fact, in my shows we literally take 2 seconds to talk about the makeup and then get right on doing a little pedicure on ourselves.

Perhaps that is what most people think of direct sales people, but it's not me, that's for sure.

If I have so and so come up to me and needs help picking out something for herself and states that she doesn't wear makeup (usually in a 'tone'), then I turn the catalog AWAY from the makeup, obviously!

So, to my very loved loyal few readers...do YOU feel the wall go up when you talk to someone in direct sales thinking that she will try to persuade you that her products are the best ever? Do you expect a debate? Are you one of those who can't speak your mind and then freeze and buy the $50 pan because she promised that your water would boil faster?

It appears it is much easier these days to READ blogs here and there than to actually make time and blog myself. So thank YOU for blogging on my dry month.

Or could it be that really, anything going on in my life right now is really nothing blogworthy?
Or I guess it could be the fact that I don't think I've ever been so busy in my life running from party to visit my mom to something else that seems to take endless hours of my life away.

I'm sitting here, 6:53am. Dave left for work a half hour ago, and the boys are still sleeping. I can hear the clocks ticking. The coffee is brewing. It's wonderful.

So, you are here, you can answer this question for me.
Swiper the fox. You know him, right?

My son can watch shows that involve aliens and other odd looking creatures without batting a eye. He knows it's pretend. I don't let him watch bad shows or shows involving violence...well, he used to watch the Power Rangers I guess...but regardless. WHY is it that he wakes up 3 times each night coming to tell me he had a bad dream about SWIPER?
And why is it that we had to come up with a special sleep time snake friend because swiper doesn't like snakes?
You see, he WATCHES dora. He LIKES dora. He never once says anything about swiper while he's watch the show, yet at night, he dreams bad dreams about swiper.

So last night, while you were all sleeping peacefully, I was chasing off Swiper the fox. Complete with, you got it, "Swiper no swiping, swiper no swiping, SWIPER NO SWIPING!" :)

You know the whole 'internet' friend thing...Well, there is someone online that I've never met, and she probably doesn't even know my blog exists. I've been 'reading' and cheering her along for years, literally.
Olivia Drab is pregnant, with a heartbeat and all. Seeing this is pregnancy #10, I'm pretty sure it's anonymous that this deserves a pretty big celebration.

I'm a middle child and have always joked with my parents about how they let all things important (like the CAMERA)slide when it came to me. Yet, my older brother and younger sister didn't miss a beat. I vowed to never do that to my 2nd child. Well crap. It's happening!
I got Logan's picture taken at Sears or Penneys every month in his first year. I did 11 months with Miles.
I got Logan's picture taken on his 1st and 2nd birthday...probably on the day exactly knowing how I was. Miles has been 2 now for 2 weeks and I've yet to bring him in. Along with the sears-penneys thing, we also took a picture every month with the same bear so we could watch him grow. I was doing good with Miles until 10 months when I remember that I didn't do month 9. So, we pretended he was 9 months and took the picture and then gave him a bath and then gave him month 10 with his hair wet and in different clothes. Shhh!
Then, I totally forgot month 11, but I remembered month 12.

Video, OH the video. I have video of Logan just laying there. It's incredible how much video I have of him. I just don't have the time to drag out the camera every day.
I'm slacking.
But DAMN I made it so hard to keep up!
Why did I think that I'd have time to do all that with #2? I should have made it easy and did the typical 1-3-6-12 month pictures, right? ;)

I'm sure this is a typical scenario, the 2nd child thing. So, I've decided to stop joking with my mom about the fact that I have 3 pieces of info in my baby book...total. One was my weight at birth, my length at birth and the color of my hair.
NOTHING else.
Luckily, both boys have a chuck full baby book they can see someday (which they probably won't care because they are BOYS and do your husbands really care when they sat up alone or when they first tried peaches? I think not)

Thought provoking words by "best friend Gayle"

I'm not a big Gayle fan. I feel like she holds on to Oprah's tail feathers and somehow thinks she is just about as important as she is.
Which is silly really, because really, why should I honestly care about Gayle.
But still, she gets under my skin.

She was on Rachel Ray the other day. (Whom I still really can't stand. But for some reason, even though I hardly EVER watch TV during the day, I find myself watching 10-15 minutes of her every other week or so)

I was watching, irritated at her until she said something that had the most truth that I could ever believe.
She was talking about her mom who passed away in 1994.
She said the thing she misses the most about not having a mom is not having someone who really truly wants to hear about every small detail of your life. And not just pretending to be interested, but really truly IS interested in everything about you.

This is SO true about my relationship with my mom.
It's incredible how much my mom can listen, offer advice when warranted but in the same token, keep it to her self when she knows that is the right thing to do.
She gets excited about things that don't even affect her, but they affect me, therefor they make her happy.
She listens to stories about neighbors, friends, business, beauty, my kids of course, cooking stories and stories just about nothing.
She's ALWAYS there to lend an ear.

Sometimes I think I'm the luckiest person in the world to have such a great mom.
I can only hope that someday my kids think of me as that person who wants to know everything, because I know I will. But then again, they are boys, and it just isn't the same.

But that is why it's so hard to see her suffer.
If you had to imagine the nicest person, my mom would be it.
My dad told me that about a week ago she saw a man holding a 'will work for food' sign and she begged him to turn around so she could give him $10 for lunch.
That's just the kind of person she is.
She'll engage in conversation with the grocery store clerk, the bank clerk, and any receptionist. She'll buy cookies or wrapping paper from any child who rings her doorbell.
She never talks bad about anyone.
If she had $6 to her name and some little child needed it, she'd hand it over without a second thought.

But don't think I always thought of her this way. Of course I didn't. It's that age old, 'you respect your mother a million times more when you have kids of your own'.
Amen to that.

My mom hasn't been able to bear any weight on her leg yet, but she has sat in a chair on 2 occasions already. They were hoping to have some progress in the weight bearing issue, but she's not ready. The longer she waits, the harder it will be.
By the end of the week, she'll be in a rehab center (a better term than nursing home) for an undetermined amount of time until she can become more independent.
Sucks.

Crusts

Back in my 'hmm...I must just be a darn good parent because my only child does everything I ask and is really a good child!' stage I used to look at children who would have the crusts cut off their sandwiches like their moms were crazy.
Why are you cutting off the crusts?
Just leave them there and he'll/she'll eat them.

I told you I was naive, didn't I?

See, I just made my child his PB&J and he'd eat it, crust and all.
I didn't see the point in cutting off the crusts.

But I've learned something.

Not all kids eat crusts.

Shocking, I know! But what I didn't know, EVER, is that perhaps the parent has nothing to do with it.

Miles doesn't eat crusts, ever.
He'll start with his sandwich and eat until he gets close to the crust, and then it's obvious to him that his sandwich is gone, even though he's got half of it left.

"Eat this!" I'll say happily handing him the crust.
"Ackies"

So, what have I started to do now?
CUT OFF THE CRUSTS!
Why? Because if I CUT them off, he'll eat it all. If I leave them there, he'll eat 1/2 of a 1/2 a piece of bread.

Isn't it funny how much you think you know as a parent, and then #2 comes around and teaches you that you didn't know half of what you thought you knew?

_____________________________
This is my poor attempt to blog and think about something other than my mom who is currently in the hospital with a rod down her entire femur bone with three 5 inch screws attaching her femur bone to her hip bone. She fell and broke her bone in 3 places. She's in for such a long long recovery. :(

2nd opinion

Logan had his second opinion on Tuesday.
Dave had planned on coming, but couldn't get out of a 2 day training class where he was the only one to represent his group.
Logan and I went alone, but I wished Dave could have joined us.
It's strange, walking into a place that is strictly for kids with Autism.
Kids coming in and out, actually, only boys. Moms smiling at each other. Staff WAY to eager and overwhelmingly nice.
I didn't like it.
I hoped we didn't belong there.

The diagnosis took a little under 3 hours.
It involved asking me a lot of questions, asking Logan a lot of questions and then LOTS of play with Logan.
His last diagnosis didn't involve very much play, so I was relieve that she was taking the time to really REALLY engage with Logan and see him with her own eyes. In the back of my head I thought, MAN! She'd make a great nanny on those days where I just need to bury my head in the sand! :)

The appointment was emotional, hard, and really something that I wish I never had to do. This woman was way better at 2 way conversation than the last guy.
He was your typical psychiatrist. His nodding and lack of response was rather cold and dry. He didn't really push my emotions.
This woman was a parent of young kids and she GOT it. She made it easy for me to really explain and really share what Logan was like.

Well, anyway, she agreed. Aspergers.
And for some reason, having 2 people say he has Aspergers is way harder than when the first person said it. I had some thoughts that maybe he was wrong. But, he wasn't.

Upcoming, more 10 page forms to fill out. All picking apart the growth and development of my child. I hate them. More evals (well, one more for the state) and then we'll start therapy. Eventually. For now, we're just doing our thing.

I'm not dead.
I will resurface soon...maybe...I hope.

It's a funny thing, time.

Today is a glorious day.
It's been busy with work...good work!

I mailed out the gifts for that celebrity I told you about. Very very excited about that.
I mailed out a packet of information for a new 'recruit' that I have for my 2nd business. Again, very exciting.
I finally got the boot for Logan's foot. Yay. Now he things he's thee coolest 5 yr old in the world and surprise, his foot doesn't hurt anymore!
I've sent off the OK to be included in a major baby show that will include my company in a email list of over 9,000 people as well as on their site and in their program folder.
Dave and I have made some major business decisions that will affect how we run our company as well.
Life is very good so far this year.
I can't help but be happy every morning when I wake up and even still happy when my head hits the pillow.

Did I mention that today is Miles' birthday?
Yep. He's two years old today.
Two.
I'm a mom of a 5 year old and a 2 year old.
Isn't that wonderful.
The funny thing, last year at this time I wasn't feeling so optimistic.
Remember?
Go ahead, click the link. I'll wait.

Last year was a really hard time for me. I remember sitting there like a maniac watching the clock with my hospital records in hand reliving what I couldn't remember, wishing they took longer notes so that I could understand everything.
I remember crying a lot last year and being grateful that Miles and I were both still alive.
This year, I don't have any of those feelings. Sure, I know that exactly right now 2 years ago today I was lying on the bed willing myself to just make it until it was time to get up and go to the hospital. I was too sick to even freak out, but my mind was freaking out.
But you know what? I'm not having a hard time with it this year.

They say that first anniversary's of traumatic events are the hardest, and boy let me tell you that that was right in my situation.
This 2nd anniversary is so different.
This year I"m sitting there listening to Miles try to say 'Happy Birthday' and trying to show me that he can (NOT) stick 2 fingers out and say 'Two!'
I'm thinking how blessed we are that finally after many MANY MANY months he's decided to go with the flow and not be so cranky anymore.
I enjoyed the sleepy headed little boy that decided he needed to sit on my lap for a half hour this morning snuggled in with a blanket and a pacifier while watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse together before he decided it was time to start the morning with breakfast.
There is no more anxious feelings. No more jealous of others with normal births and normal conception times. I don't even want to laugh at the women who say they had a HORRIBLE birth experience even though they were able to deliver in a normal amount of time, with an epidural and no 15 extra bodies at what seemed like 15 I.V.'s in the room when the baby was coming out. (well, OK, I still laugh in my head) My feelings of bitterness are gone.
That is something I never would have thought would be the case.

Time, it changes everything.
The last 5 years I have changed into a complete different person.
Life hardened me in some spots and completely mellowed me out in others.
I'd like to talk about this soon, so hopefully I won't forget.

As for now, I can sit back and realize that my baby is really no longer a baby.
He's a 2 year old boy.
We've made it through another year and will, God willing, have many more to cherish.

Happy Birthday little buddy.
You've changed my life.

First broken bone

Yesterday evening, Logan was at his Grandparents house. They have wall to almost wall wood floors and Logan likes to run and slide on his knees.
Unfortunately, his toes bent and they heard a loud crack.
He was unable to walk all night and woke up a few times in the middle of the night in pain.

Here, I thought he sprained/strained it. I thought the constant, "Mom, can you carry me to the table?" was him looking for attention! Bad mommy!!

We went in for X-rays today and the doctor wasn't positive it if was broken or not so he had Radiology look. Sure enough! One of the middle bones was broken. Then he asked pediatric orthosurgery JUST to be sure, and again they agreed it was broken.

Logan's got to wear a boot, but no cast, Thank GOD! Can you imagine? (Mom Underground, I guess you can, huh?)

So, I've got one child who is chair bound. What can I do to get the other one to sit on a chair for the rest of the afternoon?